Mozzafiato

The Call.

The next day

A thunder of people yelling in my apartment slowly pulled me from my deep slumber. A thunderous boom makes me roll over, the little dog at the end of my bed growing defensive. "What the Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ" I mumble to myself, fumbling for my glasses. 

 Last night was a blur of happiness, and just maybe a little too much champagne with my closest friends and family. But never the less, I was concerned what it may have literally dragged into my precious retreat from the world I had made my apartment into. Soon a burst of people flooded into my room, and it took me a minute to realize it was my family wielding rolled up copies of the New York Times. 

 "Aunty v wake up, wake up!! You're in the paper" my four year old niece, Marzia yelled in my face as my family got comfortable on the chairs in my room. "wait, what? Why?" I asked confused and slightly concerned. The females of my family crowd onto my bed, my young nieces slipping under the covers against me to catch a glimpse of TheNew York Times. 

 "Veronica Fitz's reimagined Mozzafiato 2019 bridal collection reinforced the point that Mozzafino has been, and always will be the bridal line for the modern, elegant bride. The young designer follows in her grandmother's footsteps, creating timelessly iconic, yet sexy bridal gowns tailored any and every bride" I practically scream, shaking the paper out of excitement.

 Slowly people start to trickle out of my bed, leaving me and my grandma discussing what's next. "We do what we always do, celebrate. Then we focus on bettering ourselves for our brides." She hums. "I like that," I say, smiling and pealing myself out of bed. Marie wasn't here to bring me my coffee because its Saturday, and I like to give her the weekend off, much to her annoyance. 

 After brushing my teeth and throwing on light makeup, as well as a tan sweater with dark skinny jeans and black heels boots, I emerge into my kitchen/living area that is filled with my close family. "We're heading out for lunch at 1 because I know you needed to pop over to the office, dear" My mom proclaims over the sound of the football game. The large clock on the wall read 11:15 am, its vintage hands ticking away.

 Getting into my office at the right time, my desk phone starts ringing with an unknown number. With my newfound happy mood, I pick it up. "Fitz" I greet, waiting for one of my assistants to scold my informality. "Hello, Veronica" the voice of none other than harry styles purrs over the phone. My heart stops for a moment, stalling me in place at the intrusion of his voice. "Hello, Mr. Styles. How can I help you?" I question, leaning against the heavy wooden desk.

 "I called to congratulate you on the New York Times, Babes" I bite my lip at his nickname. It wasnt a secrete the man was a playboy, all big men his age were."Thank you" I hum, squeezing my nail into my arm to control myself. "How about we go out to celebrate? Say, dinner Tuesday night?" Shit. I attempt to compose myself, shifting on the desk to stop myself from literally cringing. 

Okay, act cool Veronica. 

It's just dinner! No biggie just a little feast with a simple, godlike man.

"Sure" 

Good, casual. "I'll pick you up at 8, babes." There it is again, Babes. What does that even mean? "Goodbye Styles" I reply before I hang up the phone. 

Going about my business, I shoot Charlotte a text and grab my files so I can head over to lunch.